


Matters of Age

by CallToMuster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson Is A Good Bro, Gen, Hurt Phil Coulson, Hurt/Comfort, Phil Coulson-centric, Phil is in a bad place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallToMuster/pseuds/CallToMuster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil doesn’t like to be treated any differently for matters regarding age. </p><p>But sometimes he needs to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matters of Age

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stepantrofimovic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepantrofimovic/gifts).



> For the always amazing stepantrofimovic! You wrote me such a great story that I had to write you something as well. It could never live up to WWPCD? (check it out, guys) but you asked for this so I hope I delivered!
> 
> Warning: some minor depression in this. It's mentioned briefly. Message me if you want more details.

The thing is, Coulson is probably a good twenty years older than the rest of them (minus May of course, but she doesn’t count. The woman is unnatural.) and sometimes people forget that. He joined SHIELD _before Daisy was born_. That’s always a hard fact to wrap her head around. Little Phillip Coulson was some green-faced Level One rookie while Daisy was taking her first breaths!

Her point is that sometimes little things bother Phil that maybe wouldn’t affect the rest of them. This is probably due to a combination of age and the fact that he’s been doing this for such a long time.

Don’t get her wrong, Coulson is definitely in shape. She sees him in the gym, and she’s seen him fight. He is a fit man. But old age happens to the best of them, and Daisy knows Phil’s birthday from when she was looking through his file while wiping them. He’s fifty-two, and like the father she always wished she’d have. Daisy is twenty-six, and like the daughter he never got the chance to care for.

And Phil does care for her so much, both in the emotional and physical sense. It’s in the little things (grilled cheese sandwiches left by her computer when she’s had a bad day) and the big gestures (risking literally everything to save her.) It’s all Daisy can do to try and return the favor.

The problem with that is that Coulson keeps himself locked up pretty tight, refusing to show weakness. She wasn’t there for this, obviously (and she still feels bad), but apparently even with a broken leg where the bone was poking out of the skin, he barely submitted to crutches, then a cane a few days later. Sometimes still, when he thinks no one is looking, Coulson winces a little as he stumbles and limps around the Playground.

Daisy told Jemma, who just threw up her hands and rolled her eyes slightly. “He and May, it’s like they’re determined to be fine. Well, that only makes things worse. Maybe this’ll beat it into those stubborn heads of theirs.”

Everyone knows Coulson is getting older, it’s not a big secret. But no one really puts that together with the fact that he does stuff that all the rest of them do: fight bad guys, run around a lot, wait for awhile in cramped positions, etc. Coulson never complains though, maybe that’s why. If anything, he complains _less_.

He never asks anyone for help, except occasionally May, not even when he was literally missing his left hand. Then May took off for her well-earned vacation and Coulson was left without his metaphorical right hand as well. When he was getting used to the prosthetics, little things took Coulson a long time. Many a plate or cup were broken as his grip wasn’t quite right, his control wasn’t quite perfected yet; the sound of glass or ceramic clattering to the floor and shattering became common. No one mentioned it, the fact that one day they might have to go to some store and buy new ones. No one mentioned the broken pieces in the trash can. No one mentioned anything, figuring that Coulson would prefer everyone just acting normally around him, like nothing happened. But the fact of the matter was, something traumatic _did_ happen to him and people _should_ be acting a little differently in response to that, even if it went against his wishes.

And speaking of going against his wishes, _the birthday party_. Again, Daisy had seen Coulson’s complete file. Therefore, she knew that July 8th was his birthday. She decided that they’d throw him a little party like they did with Jemma (that TARDIS cake was _awesome_ ). Maybe Captain America themed. Yeah, Coulson would probably like that.

 _Wrong_. Daisy should’ve listened to May when she said that Coulson wouldn’t want anything done for him.

Okay, Coulson didn’t outright say he wasn’t pleased or anything like that, but she could tell from the way his hands were folded and that shoulders were straight and how the lines on the sides of his eyes were crinkled. He was uncomfortable with the whole thing, and that sucked because no one should be made to feel that way on their birthday, let alone by their friends.

Phil doesn’t like to be treated any differently for matters regarding age.

But sometimes he needs to be.

\--

It was particularly difficult mission. Coulson was back in the field again (where, to be honest, Daisy thought he looked the most comfortable, and wasn’t that saying something) with May and Hill acting as co-Directors. Coulson had stepped down on his own accord, and Hill had shown up bored with Stark Industries. At that point, May had already been named successor by Phil, but no one was going to tell Hill she was going to be a lackey. So, they both got the job and it’s worked out well so far.

As it turns out, the job of director really works well when that person has someone to depend on. Fury had Coulson and Hill. Phil had May. Now May and Hill have each other.

This particular op was centered around the Watchdogs. Yup, that hate group was at it again. They’d been targeting Inhumans, killing them. Daisy was determined to stop them in their tracks. Unfortunately, it was just going to be the two of them against about twenty men (just men. The Watchdogs are racist _and_ sexist) which meant that there was going to be some serious fighting going on.

Daisy knew she was ready, and she knew Coulson would probably be okay too. What she didn’t know was that Coulson had been unconsciously (or perhaps consciously, one could never really be sure with Coulson. Althought, he definitely wasn’t the type to look after himself first. Yeah, it was probably unconsciously.) holding back in fights because he was the Director and had a responsibility not to die and disrupt the fragile stability of SHIELD. Now that Coulson was “just” another agent, he could afford to take bigger risks with himself, and that’s exactly what he did.

Phil threw himself into the fight, whirling and punching his way through men much bigger than him. He executed many impressive moves that she’d only seen May and Bobbi do before, such as a spinning kick ( _!_ ) and a backflip ( _!!_ ). Daisy was so surprised that she herself forgot to begin fighting for a couple of seconds. Soon though, she was blasting bigoted assholes into oblivion (or just the wall.)

She was so focused on the satisfaction of beating up those who called her a disease that she didn’t notice the Watchdog with a gun running right at her. Luckily for Daisy, Coulson did, and performed a very Natasha Romanoff-esque style move that involved literally climbing an opponent, wrapping his legs around their neck, and hauling them to the floor. Color Daisy impressed.

Slightly out of breath, Coulson walked up to Daisy and said a little sheepishly, “Haven’t fought like that in a while.” He seemed to be running on adrenaline, as evidenced by the light in his eyes.

“Did you get the intel?” Daisy responded, because yeah, they were there for a reason other than to hurt people.

Coulson nodded and held up a flash drive. “Let’s get back to base.”

The drive back in the black SUV was blissful and silent, punctuated only by the sound of their breathing. It wasn’t an awkward silence by any means, simply comfortable. When they arrived, Daisy and Coulson took the drive up to Hill, who thanked them and reiterated that the information would help them protect Inhumans from needless killings. Then they were quickly dismissed, as was customary when dealing with the co-Directors. Neither woman was one to linger long. As the two walked down the stairs, Daisy noticed that Coulson was going a little slower than usual and wincing a little. Slightly concerned, Daisy made an inquiring look.

“I’m fine,” Coulson waved away her worry.

“You sure?” Daisy questioned again. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for being a little sore. Those were some pretty epic moves, Coulson.”

She bumped against his shoulder playfully, then immediately drew back when she noticed the grimace on his face.

“Oh crap, did I hurt you?” Daisy said a little frantically. She’d hurt Coulson too many times and didn’t want to add another thing to the list.

“I - I guess I am a little sore. Think I might’ve thrown out my shoulder a bit.” Coulson reluctantly admitted, his face clearly broadcasting the fact that he didn’t want people to know.

Daisy just exclaimed, “Follow me.”

She led him to their little mix-matched kitchen and sat him down in the soft chair in the corner. He started to protest but she silenced him with a look and got an ice pack out of the freezer. Daisy carefully placed it on his shoulder.

“Where else?” She asked.

“Really, I’m fi-” Coulson began, but Daisy interrupted him in a tone that left no room for equivocation.

“Where. Else.”

With a sigh, Coulson obliged. “My back and left leg.”

She quickly retrieved the necessary supplies, along with two bottles from the stash of alcohol Daisy knew May and Phil had hidden. A quick eyebrow raise from the man himself was all she got from that particular find. Coulson quickly took the ice packs, placing them on various points on his body. With a hiss and a crack, the beer bottle was opened and a sip was taken.

However, Phil looked as out of place as he had at his own birthday party, and Daisy was determined to rectify that.

“Relax, Coulson,” she started. “You don’t have to worry about acting invincible in front of us anymore. You’re not the Director.”

Daisy regretted the last sentence as soon as it came out of her mouth, but Phil didn’t look angry, only weary.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “Instinct.”

“Well,” Daisy replied. “Let’s just relax and have a drink together.”

They slipped back into the easy silence that had occurred an hour before in the SUV.

“You know, we don’t think any less of you for it.” Daisy exclaimed in between swigs of beer. Coulson looked surprised and not a little confused. “For your age.”

Silence from Coulson, and Daisy couldn’t tell whether she’d stepped over some invisible boundary or not so she kept going.

“I mean, none of us think that you’re a worse agent because of it.”

Nothing.

“If anything, you’re _better_. You’ve got so much more experience than I do, than any of us do except May.”

Coulson wasn’t looking at her.

“I just wanted to let you know that you can show weakness. You’re allowed to hurt. You’ve earned it.”

Daisy knew that while she was, ahem, _taking time off,_  Coulson went to a bad place. Maybe he’d been standing on the edge for a while and her leaving plus the events of Hive pushed him off the edge, but apparently he had to prodded even more than usual to eat, was taking pills (anti-depressants? Painkillers? Simmons wouldn’t tell her. Stupid doctor-patient confidentiality.), stopped keeping a neat appearance, and became obsessed with finding her. After she returned, Daisy thanked Mack for all that he’d done for Coulson and by extension, her.

She could hear Coulson’s breathing now.

“So don’t repress yourself because of what you think we might think. I guarantee we won’t mind.”

At that point, Daisy was rising from her seat, convinced that Coulson didn’t want to see her anymore, when his quiet voice stopped her.

“Thank you, Daisy.” Phil raised his head to look into her eyes and what she saw there was relief and immense gratitude. Daisy gave him a small smile and nodded in acknowledgement.

\--

Things didn’t change overnight, but Daisy didn’t expect them to. Gradually though, Coulson opened up a little to the rest of the team. He told them stories of ops he’d been on as a young agent (“ _I once had to infiltrate a kid’s birthday party as a clown to get to the criminal whose daughter was turning five.”_ ), told them when he wasn’t feeling up to things ( _“Yeah, I’m pretty sore. Can we skip the extra sparring session today?”_ ), and revealed the origins of some of the long-lasting injuries and scars he’d obtained over the years ( _“About eight years ago I was shot in the knee and now it aches when a storm is coming. Cliche but true._ ”)

The next year, for Coulson’s fifty-third birthday, he let loose one of the first genuine smiles they’d seen in awhile.

It’s small, but it’s progress. And that’s all they can ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr under this username, CallToMuster!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism is always appreciated!


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